Romanogers - Oneshots

Do you ever miss it?

Context: The Avengers are on holiday. Steve drags Nat out of her room to watch the sunset, like they used to do every evening on the run.

Natasha flicks through the channels halfheartedly. She can understand everything the Spanish television is telling her, of course, unlike most of the other Avengers, but she just doesn't care. Spanish TV is not as good as that in America, it seems; she can't find anything remotely interesting to watch.

It's warm, and all the windows in her room are open, but the weak air circulation is still not enough. She's lying on the bed in a light, thin, translucent, floaty camisole dress, under which a black bikini is visible.

There's a knock at the door. She sighs. I swear to god, she thinks. If it's Tony calling me out for some late night 'fun' with the rest of the team, I might actually smack him in the face. But it's not Tony. There, when she opens the door, is Steve, standing there with a boyish grin on his face. He's just in swimming shorts. Their eyes can't help running over each other, for less than a second, before resting back on the face opposite them.

"It's sunset." He says. She understands immediately, gives a light laugh as she grabs a key card and shuts the door on her way out.

This is their thing. When on the run, in those two years, they watched the sun set and the moon rise together every evening possible. It felt safe, for some reason. No matter where you are in the world, sunsets will always happen, and the moon will always rise, in the same place, the same way, too. They used to imagine they were back at the Avengers compound, safe and at peace. They could imagine they were anywhere, and it felt free, not a feeling you get used to while the whole world is trying to kill you.

They more or less fall asleep before it now they're back at the compound; there's no need to fantasise when they're back where they always dreamed. Natasha does miss their little late-night trysts. They both do. And now is the perfect time.

She loops her arm through his and they stroll down to the pool together. Somehow they know this is the best view.
There's music playing in the background from the pool speakers, quiet but still undeniably audible. It's soft, easygoing, relaxing.

Natasha goes to sit on the edge of a lounger, and Steve joins her. They were right. It's perfect. There are no flood lights by the pool anymore to ruin the view, it's just lit from within, fluorescent against the darkness of the surrounding area. The sky is streaked with a host of hues, hot pink and cool blue, pastel purple and warm orange, beautifully blended as the sun starts its descent and the moon rises behind them.

"Do you ever miss it?" Steve's voice pierces the comfortable silence, quiet and totally serious.
"Miss what?" She replies, though she knows exactly what he means. There's a pause before he responds, as if he's trying to translate a thousand thoughts into a few words.
"Being on the run. Free. You and I and Sam in our little trailer, travelling around and putting things to rights where we could."
She gives a small chuckle. "You make it sound so innocent."
"Well how would you describe it?"
"You and I, hiding from a world intent on killing us in a cramped trailer, occasionally killing a few bad boys who try and cause trouble. I wouldn't say it was the greatest time of my life." She counters.
"Well when you put it like that..." Steve shrugs and stares into the distance. Natasha turns her head to look at him, and secretly admires him. He's just so good, she thinks. Are there any negative points on the list concerning Steve Rogers?

He always does the right thing, always, no matter the cost. She should know; she followed his lead all those years ago, and almost without hesitation, when it came to the crackdown.

He'll do anything for the people he loves. Again, she's seen this first hand.

And let's be honest, the guy in the Apple store was just saying out loud what everyone's always thinking. Speciman.